


The Best Job

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-21
Updated: 2007-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1765339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville finally discovers his purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Job

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Daily Deviant as part of the Farewell FQF in July 2007.  
> Prompt used:
> 
> Neville discovers quite by accident that the adrenaline rush of falling from his broom and being caught by Bill leaves him super aroused and willing to do whatever Bill wants.
> 
> **Warnings:** Public sex, Oral sex, Voyeurism, Dirty talk.
> 
> **Notes:** Thanks to Sevfan for the use of her beta-reading eyes, and for her support and encouragement.

~

The Best Job

~

When Neville discovered his true calling, it happened quite by accident. Draco had spent all day poking Neville with his sly little remarks, surmising correctly that he wasn’t likely to talk back like Hermione would, or to hex him the way Ron would. 

The trio had assigned him to watch Malfoy, figuring he was the most mild-mannered of them all, but even Neville could only stand it for so long before he snapped. Standing up, he scattered the papers all over the floor in his haste to leave before he said something unforgivable.

“Look, Malfoy, it’s time you find something useful to do. You’re just a drain on us,” he said.

“At least I served some purpose in the war,” Malfoy countered. “I provided information about the Dark Lord’s whereabouts. What’s your claim to fame?”

“I... I...” Neville was at a loss for words. How dare this prat question him about his usefulness?

“What’s the matter, Longbottom?” Draco asked mockingly. “Misplaced the clever comeback I’m sure you’ve got in there somewhere?”

“B... bugger off, Malfoy,” Neville bit out as he pushed past him. 

“Ooh, nice one,” Draco called after him as he hurried away. “I’ll have to be careful of your razor-sharp tongue in the future!”

Laughter followed Neville as he bit his lip and kept on walking. Of course, now that he was away from Malfoy he could think of plenty of clever retorts, they just were never there when he needed them.

“Prat,” Neville muttered as he exited the Burrow and walked into the garden. Maybe he could work off some steam out here.

The garden trolls had left huge gouges in the soil, and he briefly considered filling them in. The feel of warm dirt between his fingers could always be counted on to calm him down. But it wasn’t his garden, and while he knew Molly Weasley was unlikely to mind if he played a bit, he would still feel guilty.

It was a gorgeous day, and that made his current predicament even more frustrating. Sometimes he wondered what he’d done to merit being assigned to watch Malfoy. Here they were, a year out of school, and still he was being left the annoying tasks no one else wanted...

“Oh, Longbottom?”

Neville looked up to see Malfoy craning out a window. “While you’re down there, get me a drink, would you? Lemonade or something. I’m hot.”

Anger surged through Neville. “You spoiled, useless prat!” he screamed back, his fists clenched. “Get your own drink. I am not your house-elf!”

He spun, striding briskly through the trees that lined the bottom of the garden until the house was out of earshot, then he let out a frustrated snarl. Now he really needed some way to let off some steam. He was sure the Weasleys didn’t keep any recalcitrant plants that he could take his frustrations out on.

He looked about wildly for a moment until his gaze was caught by a collection of old brooms propped up against the shed. 

Without stopping to think it through, Neville Summoned one of the brooms to him and, setting it between his legs, kicked off from the ground. He was in the sky in a trice, soaring over the Burrow.

Despite the inauspicious start he’d had flying his first year at Hogwarts, Neville had nonetheless managed to learn to handle a broom. He was by no means an accomplished flyer; he preferred Apparating. Despite the danger of Splinching a vital body part, flying always seemed more dangerous; his accident first year still haunted him, yet he could manage to fly when he had to.

From his vantage point in the sky he could see that the gnome holes looked awful, and as he circled he made note of some other blank spots that could use some cover, deciding to mention them to Molly later.

A few more laps brought him close to some menacing tree branches, and Neville remembered why he generally stayed on the ground and off brooms. His vision blurred and he shook his head to clear his eyes.

“Bugger,” he muttered, trying to recall if he was supposed to push with his left knee or left elbow to nudge the broom towards land and safety.

“Neville, you all right?” a distant voice called, and Neville’s eyes widened, recognizing Bill Weasley’s deep tones immediately.

_Fuck._ He was the last person Neville wanted seeing him fall off his broom, after all. Not with the crush he had on the older man. 

With Fleur having returned to France to marry a childhood sweetheart, Bill had moved back into the Burrow, and Neville spent most of his time, when not baby-sitting Malfoy, trying not to think about all the things he wished he could do with Bill.

Neville shivered a bit as his thoughts drifted, and consequently lost a bit more control of the broom. Bill called to him again, and Neville closed his eyes as that voice worked its magic.

Unfortunately, steering was even more difficult without the ability to see, and as Neville careened towards the earth, hands clutched tightly around the broom shaft, it occurred to him that it would be better to look in order to brace for impact. He opened his eyes just in time to see the broom stop abruptly. He gasped as he kept moving, sliding straight off the end.

“Got you,” Bill said triumphantly as Neville tumbled into his waiting arms. “Good thing I have lots of brothers, hm? I’m used to rescuing people who fall off brooms.”

Bill smelled of sunshine and musk, and Neville inhaled deeply before he realized what he was doing and began to pull away.

“It’s all right,” Bill murmured, hugging Neville tighter. “Just relax.”

Neville almost laughed. Relax? Standing as close as he was to Bill? He chuckled, then, as the realization of what had almost happened set in, began shaking with reaction. He clutched Bill’s shoulders tightly, wheezing for breath as he got his bearings. “Thank... you...” he gasped finally. 

Bill smiled into his eyes, and Neville’s breath caught again. 

“You’re welcome. And trust me, it’s my pleasure,” Bill said, and Neville blushed as he realized how close he was to the other man. They were all but embracing, and as he began to pull away again, it was impossible not to rub against Bill’s lean body. 

To Neville’s horror, the slow slide down Bill, combined with his exhilarating fall out of the sky, conspired to give him a raging hard-on. A hard-on that Bill could hardly miss. Bill’s eyes widened slightly.

“Sorry,” Neville whispered, wishing the ground would open and swallow him up right then.

Bill shook his head. “No need to be sorry,” he said, a low, sultry note entering his voice. “It’s a normal reaction to flying, I’ve found. Why do you think I like it so much?”

Neville blushed brighter, and Bill laughed, the warm sound somehow making everything all right. 

“Er, anyway, thanks for catching me,” Neville said. “That could have hurt a lot if I’d hit the ground.”

“Mmm, yeah,” Bill agreed, eyeing Neville as if looking for damage. And when it looked as if his eyes lingered on Neville’s crotch a bit too long, Neville figured he was hallucinating and decided to step back before he embarrassed himself further. 

“So, how can ever I thank you?” Neville babbled nervously, his fingers twisting in his robes as he looked at Bill. If he hadn’t been watching closely he would probably have missed the speculative glint that went through Bill’s eyes at those words.

“Oh, I could think of several ways,” Bill murmured under his breath as he turned away.

“What?” Neville asked, looking up and blinking. Was Bill flirting with him? His heart sped up.

Bill shook his head. “It’s all right, Neville. I’m just glad you didn’t hurt yourself. Why don’t I just get that broom and take it back to the shed, yeah?”

As they walked back Neville tried to match Bill’s stride, hope making him bold. “No, but, um, really,” he said insistently. “How can I show you just how grateful I am? If there’s something, _anything_ I can do for you, please tell me.” Neville resolutely refused to think of the images those words produced in his traitorous brain. Now was not the time to falter. Not when he may actually have a chance.

Bill smiled over his shoulder, and it was mischievous. “You should be careful who you make such offers to,” he said, winking. “A handsome man like you.”

“Handsome? Me?”

Bill smiled. “Well, yeah. I’m surprised the birds aren’t following you around. Must be all this war business, although now that it’s over and you’ll be moving back into London, you’ll be drowning in offers.”

“Yeah,” Neville said weakly. “I’m going back whenever my gran says that house is repaired, I guess. I dunno about the offers, though. She keeps trying to find me a nice girl but...”

“But what?”

Neville hesitated, then, shrugging as if saying, ‘What the heck?’ said, “Well, they aren’t my thing, birds, um, I mean girls.”

Bill stopped so abruptly that Neville ran into the back of him. “You don’t like girls?”

Neville stepped back nervously. Had he ruined everything? “I... well I’m not sure exactly what I like,” he admitted slowly. “I like some girls, but just as friends. Mostly I think about men.” _One man in particular._

To Neville’s relief, Bill nodded. “Well, you’re very attractive, you could pull anyone you liked, bird or bloke. I’m like that myself, you know. Could go either way, depending on the person.”

Neville’s eyes widened, but Bill appeared not to notice as he walked. “Anyway, you should be careful, though. With your looks, they’ll be lining up. Watch they don’t take advantage of you.”

“I’m not too worried about that,” Neville said, blushing. _Much as I may wish you would take advantage of me._ And had Bill really called him handsome?

When they reached the shed, Bill unlocked it, and grabbing the other loose brooms, shoved them inside. “There,” he said. “And really, Neville, I would hate to see you hurt. Watch yourself, yeah?”

Neville looked away. “Sure,” he said. “I won’t use any more brooms.”

“Not that,” Bill said, “although that is a good idea, too. No, I meant you should be careful who you approach. There are unscrupulous men out there that won’t hesitate to take advantage of you.”

Neville snorted. “Yeah, well, just once I’d like to be taken advantage of in that way, you know?”

“Mmm, be careful what you wish for, Nev,” Bill murmured.

Neville looked up. “Why?” he asked, some brave part of him raising its head. “Or else what?”

Bill looked away. “Well, not everyone’s as altruistic as I am,” he said. “At some point someone’s bound to take you up on it if you keep offering yourself. Just relax. It’ll happen. You’re an amazing young man with tons of potential. Now, let’s go back to the house, yeah?”

Neville shook his head, exasperated. “Fuck that! I just want to be taken seriously,” he said. “No one thinks I can do anything. I was left to baby-sit Malfoy while Ron and Hermione got to go with Harry on their mysterious quests. And now that the war’s over that hasn’t changed! All Malfoy does is make fun of me all day and I let him, can’t even stand up for myself! And then, when you catch me, save my life, and I offer myself to you, and you turn me away. Potential my arse.”

Looking down, his shoulders sagging, Neville closed his eyes tightly, ashamed of his outburst. “Anyway, it’s all right, Bill. You don’t have to try to make me feel better. I know I’m not appealing, so there’s no need to lie,” he muttered. 

Bill’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t believe me?” he asked, voice dangerous. “Have I ever lied to you before Neville?”

Neville shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that...”

“But that’s what you said,” Bill interrupted. “And now I suppose I have to prove to you how hot you really are.”

Before Neville could blink, Bill swiftly grabbed Neville’s arm and, swinging him around, pushed him up against the wall of the shed.

Sliding a finger under Neville’s chin and tilting his face up to towards his own, Bill whispered, “I didn’t turn you away because you’re not appealing, Neville. Far from it. Just... look at me. I’m damaged. That monster ruined me. What do I have to offer anyone? You deserve far better.”

Neville shook his head. “You’re everything I want,” he confessed, leaning closer, his hand reaching up to brush lightly against Bill’s faded scars. “You’re not ruined. You’ll never be ruined in my eyes. You’re beautiful.”

“You’re mad,” Bill murmured. “But I’m not going to argue. I’m only human, after all.” With that, Bill crushed Neville against him, slanting his lips over his and taking possession of Neville’s mouth.

Neville moaned as Bill rocked against him, slowly driving him out of his mind. His hands threaded through Bill‘s hair as he gave himself over to the magic of Bill’s lips and hands and tongue. Neville’s arousal, which had flagged a bit when they had argued, returned full force.

“What do you want?” Bill gasped against Neville’s neck. “How far can this go?”

“Please, I...” Neville shuddered as Bill nipped at a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. “Anything you want,” he whispered. “I want to do whatever you want to do.”

“You’ll do whatever I say?” Bill asked huskily, gently nibbling at the skin below Neville’s ear.

“Yes,” Neville whispered. “Please.”

One moment Neville had Bill’s hard body pressed against him and the next he was free. It took him a moment to adjust. He opened his eyes slowly.

Bill was watching him, his hand pressed to the generous bulge in his trousers, a smile hovering about his lips. He licked them and Neville shuddered. “Time to fulfill your promise,” Bill said. “Strip.”

Neville blinked. “Wh... what?”

Bill’s eyes raked over him, somehow making Neville harder. “Take off your clothes,” he said. “I want to see you.”

Hands shaking, Neville began unfastening his robes, his breathing speeding up at the admiring look on Bill’s face as more of his body was revealed. When he was down to his pants and socks, Bill raised a hand. “Leave the socks,” he rasped.

Neville’s eyes widened, but he obeyed, stepping out of his pants and dropping them on top of his clothes that were piled beside him. It was all he could do not to try to cover his cock that was bobbing in the air.

Bill stepped closer. “Gorgeous,” he whispered. “Now, on your knees.”

Neville obeyed, a part of him wondering when he’d become so bold. He was out in the open, in the daytime, naked! Something about flying and falling into Bill’s arms had lowered his inhibitions, and Neville wasn’t arguing. 

Bill’s hand settled on his head, steadying him. “Take me out,” he said, and Neville, hands trembling worse than ever, nevertheless did so, inhaling sharply when Bill’s thick cock sprang out. He swayed slightly as Bill’s scent washed over him. Copious amounts of pre-come were leaking from the head and Neville automatically leaned closer. 

“Gods, so eager,” Bill moaned. “Go on then, suck it.”

Neville pressed his lips to the crown, sucking experimentally. Bill moaned, his hands tightening in Neville’s hair as he rocked forward. 

“I’ve thought about this, you know,” Bill muttered, his thumb caressing Neville’s cheek. “About you, oh yes, there... you sucking me. About having those sweet lips wrapped around me as I fuck your mouth. I never meant to say anything.”

Neville, having managed to get about half Bill’s length into his mouth, pulled off. “Glad you did,” he whispered, his breath gusting over Bill’s spit-slicked prick. “Wanted to do this for so long.”

Bill groaned and pulled Neville’s head back towards him. Neville took the hint and began sucking once more, swirling his tongue about the tip to collect as much of Bill’s taste as he could.

“Gods, you’re a natural,” Bill gasped. His hips jerked, and Neville choked slightly. “Sorry,” Bill said. “You’re really good at this. Just relax your throat and mind the teeth, yeah?”

Neville did as he was instructed, and soon Bill was grunting as his cock slid in and out of Neville’s mouth. Neville looked up, meeting Bill’s eyes. Bill’s hips jerked and a strangled moan escaped him. Bill began tugging on Neville’s hair to get him to pull off, but Neville simply kept sucking.

“I’m gonna come,” Bill warned.

Neville stared up at him. _Oh, I hope so,_ he thought.

When Bill came, he filled Neville’s mouth with thick, creamy spunk, and Neville did his best to swallow it all but was unable to manage. He pulled back and it hit him in his face, dribbling down his jaw and neck. 

Bill was still shaking, tremors wracking his body as the last of his seed spurted from him and onto Neville’s chin, as he opened his eyes and took in the debauched sight before him.

“You’re amazing,” he breathed, and gathering Neville to him, proceeded to lick his come off Neville. By the time he got to Neville’s nipples, Neville was writhing, begging for release, and Bill dropped to his knees to oblige.

Neville keened when Bill’s hot mouth engulfed him, his hands scrabbling against the wooden walls of the hut he was leaning against. _Gods, he so good at this,_ Neville thought as Bill’s tongue somehow seemed to be everywhere at once, nudging his slit, tracing the fat vein underneath his cock and swirling in entrancing circles about his sensitive length.

His eyes opened to slits, and when he saw the way Bill looked with his lips stretched around his cock, eyes closed in concentration as he all but sucked Neville's soul out of his body, Neville lost control.

“Bill,” he whimpered, trying to pull away, but Bill simply held on and hummed, the vibrations around his over-stimulated cock making Neville convulse and come pulsing down Bill’s throat.

When he began to whimper with Bill’s continued enthusiastic sucking, Bill pulled off and, getting to his feet, kissed Neville deeply.

Neville moaned as the mingled flavours of his own come, mixed with Bill’s, assaulted his senses. His spent cock gave a twitch, and Bill, having felt it, pulled back. “Ready to go again, are we?” he asked, pressing tiny kisses to the corner of Neville’s mouth. 

Neville blushed, even as he nodded. “I... yes, actually,” he admitted. “Just give me a minute.”

Bill chuckled warmly, and dragging Neville against him, buried his face in his neck. “You have to remember I’m an old man,” he said, his stroking tongue making havoc of Neville’s nerves. “It’ll take me more than a minute.”

“So, um, what now?” Neville whispered. 

“What do you want to do now?” Bill countered, lifting his head and looking him in the eye. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Neville said boldly. 

Bill’s eyes widened, then he smiled. “I think I can manage that,” he rasped. 

A moment later the shed was deserted, the only evidence of the events of the past few minutes a pile of discarded clothes.

~

Draco sighed, and, rolling his eyes decided it was time to go and get himself some tea. It had been at least three days since he’d even glimpsed Longbottom and it was clear that he was shirking his duties and had run off, although Draco couldn’t imagine what was more important than tending to _his_ every need.

They had assigned the Weasleyette as his new baby-sitter, although Draco was careful not to call her that to her face. Her temper and ease with somewhat shady spells was legendary.

She had just left to go moon after Potter, so Draco decided this was the perfect time for a snack.

The Weasleys had no house-elves, and Molly Weasley was away on Order business, at least that’s what they’d said, so Draco stumbled through the process of making tea, muttering to himself all the while about poor hospitality. 

The sound of laughter out the window made him pause, and he glanced out into the dusky garden, wondering who was out there. As far as he was aware, Potter and his cronies were in the so-called parlour, although Draco would have called the room a closet.

Forgetting his tea, Draco crept outside, intent on discovering what was going on. His mouth opened in shock as he saw Longbottom, on a broom, waving at someone on the ground. 

Draco peered into the darkness, finally recognizing one of the older Weasley brothers -- Bill was it? Yes, Bill.

“Get down here, Neville,” he called, and Longbottom laughed and began to descend.

He landed badly, Draco noted, but Bill was right there, catching him as he tumbled awkwardly off the broom. 

Longbottom wrapped himself around Bill and they began kissing, and Draco could see the passionate intensity from where he was standing. His cock twitched, and he stepped behind a shrub to conceal himself whilst maintaining a good view.

Longbottom pulled away and said, in a voice so husky it was almost unrecognizable, “Tell me what you want me to do, Bill. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll even leave the socks on again.”

Bill laughed wickedly. “Mmm, love the socks, and yes, I have all sorts of ideas for tonight, Nev. And may I just say, I do love how hot flying gets you.”

With that, they disappeared, leaving Draco gobsmacked. For once in his life, he could understand why someone would have abandoned him. From what he’d just seen, Longbottom had the best job of anyone.

~


End file.
